you and ponyboy were quite close friends. the two of you had met in school. match together someone in need and someone willing to help, and well, you get ponyboy and you. the two of you were often pretty physical with the other, holding hands, hugging, the works.

relentless teasing came from the rest of the group, sodapop giggling as he pointed towards your interlaced hands, two-bit drunkenly lecturing you two on the dangers of dating so young, darry warning you that you won't be doing anything like that with his kid brother―that one always got pony yelling at darry―, and dal . . . saying things that include nothing pg-13.

the two of you were currently sitting on the couch together, a simple tv show playing in the background as pony was reading aloud a book to you. his head was on your chest as you leaned against the arm rest, and your hand was threading through his hair, something he both loved and hated. loved because he liked the feeling, but hated, knowing he'd have to put more grease in later.

it was absolutely risky to be like this, as if anyone saw, they'd be convinced that you two were more then just friends. and it'd be almost impossible to prove you aren't dating. this definitely isn't helping your claims to be just platonic lovers.

but for now, it was peaceful. ponyboy's soft voice echoing lightly throughout the room, your breathing synced up as you slowly ran your fingers through pony's hair. pony paused with the page he was reading, glancing up at you. his green-ish gray eyes gleamed up at you, the corner of his mouth curling up lightly.

"you're not paying attention." he said, the corners of his mouth twitching to hold in a smile.